Why I Wear a Chapel Veil and an Unexpected Benefit

May 10, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Devotionals, Eucharist/by Maria Riley

Why I Wear a Chapel Veil and an Unexpected Benefit

At every Mass and each time I am in a place with Jesus truly present in the Eucharist, I don my chapel veil.

I’ve been wearing a mantilla for just over a year. I’m not the only one in my parish, but we are among the vast minority. Today, canon law doesn’t require women to cover their heads. Yet, though entirely optional, veiling at Mass is a beautiful way to outwardly express your reverence: at its core, wearing a chapel veil is a tangible expression of awe and humility before the Eucharist.

What initially sparked my interest was that the women who wore chapel veils in my parish were the women whom I wanted to be like. I knew some of them personally, and their entire lives bore witness to Christianity. For them, the Faith wasn’t something practiced for an hour on Sundays; their entire lives embodied it.

For months I admired their mantillas from afar, still unsure if I had the confidence to pull one off. I felt nervous about drawing attention to myself. Yet, week after week, I found myself thinking about veiling for Mass.

Thus began the Great Internet Search of 2023. I sought out every article I could find about women wearing mantillas. I read about the history, why the practice stopped, and why women do choose to veil. I learned how it serves as a physical reminder to focus our minds and hearts on the presence of Christ in the Eucharist, fostering a deeper sense of spiritual connection and intimacy with God. In a world filled with distractions, the simple act of covering one’s head can create a sacred space for prayer and contemplation.

I was especially drawn to the fact that veiling means embracing my femininity. Men have never covered their heads. (In fact, the canon law was to uncover their heads, hence the tradition of removing hats when entering a church). Some movements in the secular world espouse that women should do everything the same as men, but the Church (and I) says, “Thank You, God, that men and women are different yet equal in dignity.” I am a beautiful, feminine woman, and wearing a lace veil is overtly embracing that.

I also felt compelled to have a sacred item I only wear for Jesus. I always try to dress up for Mass, but sometimes (particularly on weekdays or during very cold weather) my attire is less than glamorous. As I pilgrimaged around Poland last month, jeans were typical during Mass. Yet every time I stepped into a church, I wore my veil to remind myself in Whose presence I was.

The clincher was that Mary is never depicted without a head covering. This struck me right to the heart. I desire to be like Mary, to follow in her footsteps of faith, helping draw others to Christ. I aim to echo her Fiat throughout my life. Choosing to veil ultimately came down to my desire to be like her.

I took the plunge and haven’t looked back. I felt a little nervous and self-conscious the first time, but that quickly dissipated. I don’t worry about what anyone else thinks because I know my reasons: I seek to please God and detach from the opinions of others. Veiling is automatic for me now. If I do happen to forget my veil, I feel underdressed, regardless of what clothes I’m wearing.

And now, I recognize a completely unexpected benefit of wearing a veil at Mass. My veil hangs onto my forehead and around my face, creating a little cove just for me. The veil blocks out distractions in my peripheral vision like horses wearing blinders in a parade. When I sit at Mass and gaze at the altar, I don’t see the movements of those around me like I used to. My vision is limited to what—Who—is in front of me. My veil reminds me of what my focus should be on, and helps me keep that focus. An unexpected gift from a simple mantilla.

If you’re discerning wearing a chapel veil, I encourage you to pray about it and listen to how the Holy Spirit is moving in your heart. There is no list of reasons for or against veiling that can compare with hearing the call from within you.

What’s Your Name?

May 8, 2024/1 Comment/in Catholic Writing and Publishing, Devotionals, Inspirational/by Mary McWilliams

What’s Your Name?

“What’s your name?” is probably the easiest question we can answer. The name we are known by. It’s the name our parents gave us, and maybe they put effort into choosing the right one to set us on our life path. In the past, babies were often named after an elder or someone in the Bible. That name was given to them upon their Baptism: their Christian name. Catholics, at Confirmation, take the name of a saint they want to emulate. In modern times, the Sacrament of Baptism, too often, is not a priority or consideration for parents and they choose names that are meant to be historical, inspiring, courageous, regal, or just “different.”

We all have another designation, one far more important and beautiful than any label loving parents can bestow upon us: the name God has given us. ike many of the things He creates, it’s a mystery that we will know one day, but not in this earthly life.

Appellations are important to God. He tells us many times. We see in the first chapter in Genesis how much he loves to title each one of his masterpieces: “God called the light ‘day’ and the darkness he called ‘night’” (Gen. 1:5). And: “God called the dome ‘sky.’” (Gen. 1:8). “God called the dry land ‘earth’ and the basin of water ‘sea’” (Gen. 1:10). The chapter goes on, right down to “… creatures that crawl the earth” and “green plants for food” (Gen. 1:30). A creator who knows us so well, he’s counted the hairs on our head and desires the deepest and most intimate relationship with each of us (cf. Mt. 10:30). Surely, he’s dubbed us individually with names that reflect that longing. In fact, in Isaiah 43:1, the Lord has said, “I have called you by name, and you are mine.”

Our name “… expresses a person’s essence and identity and the meaning of this person’s life,” explains The Catechism of the Catholic Church in article 203. We have well-known examples of God changing names, or giving a variant, to reflect of new mission. Abram became Abraham when God made him the “father of a multitude of nations” (Gen. 17:5). What other names from the Bible might reveal God’s charges for his flock? The apostle Barnabas has, according to Acts 4:36, a name that means “Son of Encouragement” and he was a supporter of Paul (who was still going by Saul at the time) before a skeptical troupe of apostles (cf. 9:27). Michael means “Who is like God?” Nathanael means “God has given.” Joshua to Jesus means Yahweh is salvation (Behind the Name).

Deacon Harold Burke-Sivers of the Diocese of Portland, Oregon addresses an important question we need to consider: are we living a life that is at least attempting to be worthy of a name God would give us?

“Is it ‘parked in front of the television?’ Is it ‘never pray with my spouse?’” He posed the issue in a humorous, yet serious way in his April 20, 2023 reflection on the USCCB website. He links the question of identity with cultural demands to rename and re-identify ourselves, warning of the threat to our eternal salvation by complying with modern social fads rather than God.

What do we want to be? We strive to be diligent employees to achieve raises and promotions; good parents to raise independent children; honest business owners to keep and attract customers. But who do we try to be for God? What does God call us to be? Would our Godly name reflect our greatest strength or perhaps reveal our greatest struggle? It is somewhat ironic that God chose Simon, a man who expertly made a living on an unpredictable, fluid surface, to become Peter―Rock―a sturdy and stalwart foundation on which to build his church. His original name, Simon, means “hearing, listening.” He must have listened intently when God spoke to him to be the one who recognized that the Jesus was the Messiah when all the others missed it.

“Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father” (Mt 16:17).

In another bit of irony, Paul means “small or humble” (Behind the Name). Eventually, he was humble unto the Lord, but in his convictions, he was anything but small.

“… every one of us has a mysterious name, expressing our own meaning in the designs of God, even unknown to us here below, and to be revealed beyond this life,” wrote Fr. Hugh Barbour, O. PRAEM.

Until the day we learn God’s special endearment for us, we know we all share this one distinction for which we can strive each moment: Child of God.

New American Bible Revised Edition. New Jersey: Catholic Book Publishing Corp. 2010. St. Joseph medium size edition.
Catechism of the Catholic Church. New York: Doubleday. April 1995. First Image Books Edition.
Behind the Name. https://www.behindthename.com/name
Burke-Sivers, Harold. “Daily Reflection.” 20 April, 2023. United States Conference of Catholic Bishops. https://bible.usccb.org/podcasts/video/2023-04-20-reflection-270
Barbour, Hugh. “Names Written in Stone.” Catholic.com. 23 Aug. 2020

Sanctifying Habits: What is God Asking of Me Today?

April 12, 2024/2 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Catholic Writing and Publishing, Devotionals, Family Life, Spiritual Life/by Maria Riley

Sanctifying Habits: What is God Asking of Me Today?

Habits and routines are such strange things. When I’m establishing them, it feels like dragging a screaming toddler uphill in the snow, and then breaking them is as easy as that same toddler falling asleep in her car seat the minute she’s strapped in. Seriously. I can work for months and months and solidify a productive routine, and the moment that something throws me off, it’s like I’m starting from scratch again.

The crazy thing is that this is true even if I plan and take time for a valid reason. I allow myself a break from writing when I have family vacations or I recognize my need for rest. I am a wife and mom before I’m a writer, and when my family needs me, I let my writing habits fall away.

When I allowed myself some honest silence with Jesus about this, I realized I’m struggling with feelings of inadequacy. I see what other people are doing. I hear about their book launches and new contracts. I watch their reels on social media and see their following count. I read the lives of the saints, and their virtue seems unattainable. I can’t possibly be as amazing as Joan or Faustina or Thérèse. When I see what everyone else is accomplishing, I feel like I’m falling short.

In His mercy, God spoke to me in the silence. He told me that He doesn’t want me to be like Joan or Faustina or Thérèse—because I’m not them. I’m Maria. And He has a special, completely unique mission for me. I can’t possibly be like any of the great saints, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be a great saint in my very own way.

Theodore Roosevelt wisely said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” I can’t count the number of times I’ve shared a version of this quote with my kids. It comes out of my mouth in ways like, “Be grateful for what you have”; “If all you think about is what you’re missing out on, you’ll be miserable”; or “Look at what you do have! Focus on that!” Not surprisingly, I don’t have the eloquence of Theodore Roosevelt, but the sentiment is the same.

If only I had the ability to take my own good advice. I can be astonishingly wise when it comes to parenting and remain quite dense when it comes to myself.

Learning about the great saints of our Faith is a joy. Having powerful intercessors in Heaven whom I can call on during my difficult times is an unmatched blessing. Feeling inspired by their willingness to give everything to Christ is, well, inspiring.

Thinking I’m failing in my vocation because my life doesn’t look like theirs? Now that is worthless. A complete waste of time and energy. I heard a priceless gem while listening to The Endow Podcast this week:

God doesn’t recycle.

God is constantly creating anew. Every single snowflake is unique. No two flowers are identical. And no one else in the entire history (or future) of the world had or will have the same soul, experiences, thoughts, ideas, disappointments, relationships, situations, creativity, frustrations, or wonder as me. I’m the one and only me.

God loves me so much He not only created me, but He then continues to give me encounters for my own sanctification. God deeply desires for me to become a great saint, and He knows exactly who I am, what I’m capable of, and what my circumstances are. He calls me today from right where I am.

So today I am composing an imperfect blog post and getting myself back on track. What is God asking of you today?

The Power of a Smile

March 8, 2024/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Devotionals, Faith, Family Life, Hope, Spiritual Life/by Maria Riley

The Power of a Smile

When my kiddos were young, the local YMCA was a saving grace. My four daughters, ages four and under, loved playing in the childcare area almost as much as I loved a chance to pee uninterrupted. My mom-friends also belonged to the Y, so it was as much a playdate for me as it was for the kids.

At the YMCA, I learned that I do actually enjoy working out when it’s not a mandatory school class. I took various group classes that met my social needs and allowed me to try new exercises with no pressure or obligation. I remember especially fondly that if it weren’t for the YMCA, I may not have showered at all when my husband traveled for work. My twins are cute, but I couldn’t take my eyes off them for a minute!

Naturally, when I learned that my husband’s job was moving us to a new state, one of the first things I searched for was if our new town had a YMCA. To my great relief, it did. I’m fairly sure the girls and I trekked over there to become members on our second day there.

But everything was wrong with the new Y. My kids were scared of the new childcare area because they didn’t know the staff yet. They didn’t offer my favorite exercise classes. The cardio room was separate from the weights room, and both felt cramped: the building was regularly crowded, and my preferred machines weren’t available; I had to sign up for a turn on the cardio equipment and could only do thirty minutes at a time.

The worst part was how unfriendly everyone was, from the staff to my fellow patrons. I didn’t know anyone, and no one talked to me. Aside from a quick greeting as I dropped off my kids in the childcare area, I wouldn’t speak to a single person. I distinctly remember feeling profoundly alone while surrounded by people. They just weren’t my people.

One day, while I moped around the YMCA, bemoaning how I didn’t have any friends or even get a friendly smile, I realized the fault was mine. I recognized that from the moment I put the car in park, I hung my head and only looked at the ground. It was no wonder no one ever smiled at me. I didn’t give a single person I passed the opportunity.

At that moment, something changed in me. I decided to not be the reason for my own misery. I decided to lift my head, look everyone I passed in the eye, and smile. The most amazing thing happened: people smiled back.

I felt less alone from that day forward, not because I immediately made friends (which, I’m sad to report, didn’t happen overnight) but because I was connecting with other human beings. God created us in His image and likeness, and He created us for relationships. We aren’t meant to go through this life alone.

I learned some valuable lessons from that experience, the most notable being that I am responsible for my behavior. I can’t begrudge the unfriendliness of others when I don’t make the effort myself; something as small and simple as a smile can make a huge difference.

When I walk around looking people in the eyes and smiling, my soul is transformed. Even if I’m struggling and my life isn’t as simple and easy as I’d like, when I smile, I allow the joy that Christ offers to penetrate into my heart. What’s more, my smile is returned more often than not with a smile from a stranger’s face, further filling my soul with happiness.

These days, I don’t have to think about it: I’m always smiling. I love looking at other people and greeting them warmly. Each person I pass is a fellow creation of God, and I am blessed to be in her or his company. My kids often comment on how friendly I am—I get a chance to remind them that every person we pass has dignity and worth, regardless of her or his outward appearance. In this small, simple way, I get to share Christ’s joy with others.

If you’re feeling down or isolated, the most powerful tool you have requires only a few muscles in your face. It’s guaranteed to make you feel better, and chances are, your joy will spill into the strangers you pass. All you have to do is smile.

©Maria Riley 2024

Stumble onto a Forgotten Priest’s Homilies, and Wind Up in a Successfully Reflective Lent

February 14, 2024/2 Comments/in Blessed Mother, Book Review, Catholic Writing and Publishing, Devotionals, Faith, Inspirational, Lent, Lenten Devotion/by Mary McWilliams

Ever feel like you’ve failed Lent? You enter the season ambitiously on Ash Wednesday, receiving the smudged cross on your forehead, determined to read through the New Testament or Exodus at a measured pace, only to get stuck on a confusing passage and give up … for now.

A local parish offers an evening Bible study, but when the day comes, you’re too exhausted from work. Maybe next week, you think, but then the six weeks go by and you’ve missed the whole thing. You try online reflections, but you just breeze through them over morning coffee. You chastise yourself for being undisciplined or for refusing to take your spiritual life seriously. But maybe you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. A more relaxed approach, such as leisurely readings by a forgotten, but once beloved priest could deepen your faith, self-reflection, and ultimately your relationship with God.

Fr. Ronald Knox is little known to 21^st Century Americans in favor of other popular English converts such as St. John Henry Newman and GK Chesterton, but in his time, Fr. Knox was regarded as one of the most influential and prolific Catholics of the past century. He is a contemporary of Chesterton and an Oxford neighbor of CS Lewis, and February 17 marks the 136^th anniversary of his birth. Raised in the Anglican tradition, even becoming an Anglican minister, the good father followed in his country’s stead, not because he believed it was the perfect way, but because he wanted to bring the Church of England back to Rome. When he realized his ambition was futile, he converted to Catholicism at the still tender age of 29.

Fr. Knox was much sought after as a speaker, preacher, and retreat facilitator for his way of bringing depth to simple concepts and simplicity to the profound. His self-deprecating humor, orthodox theology, and insight into the human condition found its way into countless published homilies, broadcasts on the BBC, and even detective novels. He is also highly respected for his English translation of the Bible, known as the Knox Bible.

One collection of his homilies that might elude a mainstream audience is his title, The Priestly Life. Originally published in 1958 and re-released in 2023 by Cluny Media, this compilation of 16 retreat talks addressed to priests could just as easily be called The Saintly Life because it speaks to the saintliness we are all called to live. With the wisdom of a compassionate confessor, Fr. Knox, who seems to know what’s inside the flawed heart that yearns to be whole, begins with the Alpha and Omega framed in Biblical history, then gently leads the reader (or listener, originally) to realize his sinful nature, bringing him to humility and repentance. Catholic theologian and author John Janaro quotes Evelyn Waugh’s in a 2021 essay, calling the priest and his ministry an “apostolate of laughter and the love of friends” (Janaro).

His chapters in The Priestly Life address so many of the “No, not me” sins: sloth, apathy, grumbling and complaining, blaming. In “Murmuring,” he engages the reader with a compelling story of the Israelites venting and complaining about Moses and God. You read along, nodding and chuckling, amazed how much they sound like your co-workers. He goes on to explain why the grumbling, a “very difficult sin to avoid,” is a three-fold sin against God, neighbor, and self and realize, “That’s me!” and feel an urgency to go to Confession.

“Part of the reason why God put you into the world was to exercise the patience of others by your defects; think of that sometimes when you are going to bed” (pg. 81).

He speaks to his brother priests in “Accidie” about a “tepidity” of spiritual life. “What I mind about is not so much that I seem to get so little out of my religion, but that I seem to put so little into it. Or perhaps I should put it this way: what I mind about is that I should mind so little” (pg. 90). He also addresses a type of malaise, of going through the motions. The scenarios sound much like ruts that most everyone, at some point and in honest moments, experiences in marriage, work, and life in general. “All of the savour has gone out of his priesthood; he sometimes thinks, even out of his religion. Was he, perhaps, not meant to be a priest … is it possible that he has made a mistake?” (pg. 89).

Fr. Knox, in other chapters, addresses perseverance, death and obedience. In his piece on the Blessed Mother, he eschews “Mariology” and sounds more like a loyal knight honoring his heroine queen. While each chapter serves as retreat on its own, they also impart an appreciation into a priest’s very human life by which we might gain more compassion and understanding of a demanding and sacrificial choice, Wouldn’t that help make a successful Lent?

Knox, Ronald. The Priestly Life. 2023. Cluny Media. Providence, Rhode Island.
Janaro, John. Monsignor Ronald Knox. 2021. Magnificat. Catholic Education Resource Center.
Photo Credits: Keegan Houser and Eduardo Braga

Finding Treasures in Pockets of Time

January 12, 2024/0 Comments/in Devotionals, Faith, Family Life, Inspirational, Love, Spiritual Life/by Maria Riley

Finding Treasures in Pockets of Time

When I run into other moms at church, in the neighborhood, or at the grocery store, I find that I am having the same conversation over and over. I say, “Hi! How are you?” and she replies, “Busy!” and then delves into her litany of appointments and tasks that fill her schedule, and I reply in kind by agreeing and sharing my own over-scheduled obligations. We end our rushed conversation and run off to get something else done.

Sometimes there are things in our lives that we need to purge. It may not always be easy to remove it, but often, we are aware of the things that consume our time and give us nothing in return. I find, in my life, those things are typically self-centered, and when I choose to live the way Christ wants me to, I am given the strength to remove those things that take up too much of my life.

As mothers, though, so much of our life is spent in service to others. We are chefs, nurses, house cleaners, and chauffeurs, not to mention boo-boo kissers, story time tellers, snuggle buddies, and behavior correctors. Then our mother-in-law comes to visit, and we must be the perfect hostesses. The list goes on indefinitely, but the hours in the day do not.

How do we find time for Christ when we are pulled in so many different directions? It is especially difficult when these many different directions are for good things for our families. From time to time, I have found myself wishing for the seemingly simple life of a nun, especially when I am craving time and intimacy with our Lord but finding the demands of my vocation of motherhood to be standing in my way. But then I remember the beautiful gift of my calling, and I have worked to grow in my relationship with Christ within the demands of my schedule.

I rarely have large blocks of time, but I am regularly gifted with what I call “pockets of time” throughout the day. I have five minutes here or there, often while I am waiting for something, that I used to spend scrolling on my phone or otherwise distracting myself. Now, I try to be purposeful with these pockets of time and turn to God in prayer, even if I don’t have time to read the daily readings or journal in my Bible study workbook.

I used to get stuck in my growth toward Jesus because if I didn’t have 20–30 minutes to sit down, read, pray, and reflect, I wouldn’t do anything at all. Then, by the end of the day, I would feel like a failure because my spiritual time was just something else that I didn’t get done today (along with a shower or getting that laundry from a week ago folded). Somewhere along the way, I realized that God never gave me a set of expectations for how and when I have to pray. That came from my own unrealistic expectations, compounded by comparing myself to other women who seem to have it all together in their faith journeys.

Now, instead of dedicating 20–30 minutes to God in the morning, I turn to Him for a minute or two 20—30 times per day. Before I get out of bed in the morning, I say hello to the Lord, offer my day to Him, and ask Him to show me His will. When I begin a household chore, I offer it for someone in need. I pray for a moment before I start a workout, thanking God for the gift of my body, the temple which houses my soul and the Holy Spirit. I have learned that just a few moments is all it takes to recenter my day and draw closer to Christ.

The best part about approaching my prayer life in this way is how my spiritual life has deepened and grown. Previously, once I had completed my morning prayer time and reflection, I would check the “Time for God” box and then go on with my day. Now, by regularly recentering myself and refocusing on God many times throughout the day, I am able to let Him work in me and through me all day long. It is such a gift that God has helped transform my life so that my entire day has become a prayer.

Navigating through darkness to the Season of Light

December 13, 2023/0 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Devotionals, Faith, Holidays, Hope, Spiritual Life/by Mary McWilliams

Navigating through darkness to the Season of Light

My peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.
—John 14:27

The Lord spoke these words to disciples before the crucifixion. By the end of the discourse, it would be understandable that their anxiety was rising. He concluded: “I have told you this so that you might have peace in me. In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world” (John 17:33). He knew what the earthly powers planned for them as his followers, and they needed to be reminded that no matter what the world dished out, his was not simply a better way, but the best way. He also sent this message before his birth. In reflecting upon the readings throughout Advent, we can quell the turbulent stirrings rousted during the holidays.

Living in the world is a hard contact sport, and only a fool would play a rough game without proper conditioning and back-up. Yet so many go through life without the support that faith gives. Our society has record numbers of people living with anxiety and depression, and plummeting numbers in church attendance and religious affiliation. The culture is identified by the disturbingly accepted phrase, “post-Christian society.”

Even believers can be shadowed by the unrest that balloons during the Advent and Christmas seasons. The constant pressure to spend, eat, socialize, and “be of good cheer” causes angst for many, even those who enjoy the hustle and bustle. The Devil, that slobbering, panting mongrel of darkness, dispatches four of his best henchmen to squeeze the vulnerable. These days, that applies to most of us. Anxiety, Panic, Fear, and Depression are among his supreme lieutenants because they are excellent collaborators of opportunism. He recruits limitless holiday help to brew botheration through the urgent and endless “best sale of the year” deals, the “get it or forget it” Christmas lists, and social engagements (or lack thereof).

For others, the season stirs up grief over deep loss. The reasons for the unease outnumber the people experiencing them. The pace of keeping up with the season triggers everything from dread to disappointment to despondency. It’s enough to make Santa’s elves want the holiday season to be done. How sad to want such a beloved and beautiful time—Advent and Christmas—to be over with a big sigh of relief. For the beast of the underworld, it’s pure delight, like fresh, bloody meat.

Scripture is always the balm for sufferings of the world, but the readings this Advent—including those from morning and evening prayer and daily Mass—penetrate the fog that can become ever so dense. We began Advent with the command to “watch.” Listen also to the messages of the season. Perhaps commit to memory a passage to push out the anxiety whenever it begins to bubble. “I will listen for what God, the Lord has to say; surely he will speak of peace to his people and the faithful” (Psalm 85:9).

During Advent, we encounter the faceless and the nameless that Jesus healed, proving that God sees us all—no matter how invisible we may feel—and wants to make us whole. “Great crowds came to him, having with them the lame, the blind, and many others. They placed them at his feet, and he cured them” (Matthew 15:30). Matthew recounts in 9:36: “At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” He even healed those not physically present as we hear the centurion’s pleas for his suffering, paralyzed servant (cf. Matthew 8:5-13).

We meet people this month who, with great trials, embraced the rays of the Son. December 13 is the feast of the fourth century martyr, St. Lucy, whose name means light. She chose a hideous torture that blinded her because she would not betray her Savior. Isaiah 40:29 fortifies us: “He gives power to the faint, abundant strength to the weak.” The following day, December 14, we remember St. John of the Cross who, more than five centuries later, continues to enlighten with his Dark Night of the Soul.

The Advent readings are a treasury of fortitude to battle distress: “… you shall no longer weep; He will be most gracious to you when you cry out; as soon as he hears, he will answer you” (Isaiah 30:19). And others: Psalm 121:5, 7-8; Isaiah 25:8; Wisdom 18:14-16; Song of Songs 2:10-11 to name a few. Throughout Advent, God sends us messages of hope and encouragement. We are assured in Philippians 4:6-7: “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

Peace be with you.

Feature Image by Rúben Gál from Pixabay
Image by Ri Butov from Pixabay

A Wonka Way of Life

December 8, 2023/2 Comments/in Catholic Theme, Christian education of youth, Community, Devotionals, Faith, Family Life, Love, Mercy/by Maria Riley

A Wonka Way of Life

I love board games. I especially love them now that my kids have graduated from Candyland to (slightly) more advanced and strategic games. I find that playing board games with my kids is the easiest way for me to have them off screen time without them driving me insane or physically accosting each other. (Yes, my girls look adorable, but they’re feisty.)

Our current family favorite is Willy Wonka’s The Golden Ticket Game. Essentially, you play as one of the five children from the film, and collect Willy Wonka Bars through various actions. At the end of the game, when all the pretend candy bars have been collected, the players look inside their Wonka Bars to discover if they have won one of the coveted Golden Tickets. At least one player is left without a Golden Ticket, more if someone is lucky enough to have found more than one ticket in his or her own stock pile of candy bars.

Since they were itty bitty, I’ve never let my kids win at games. (Okay, maybe I skew the game a little bit, but I’ve never completely thrown one.) I believe that learning how to deal with losing is an absolutely fundamental skill that our kids need to learn as early as possible. We have a little song that the loser sings to the winner after a game, which goes, “You won, you won, but I had a lot of fun.” Then the winner has to clean up the game so there’s a tiny bit of retribution.

The original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory movie from 1971 still gets regular viewing around our house too. (The anticipation is already growing for the Willy Wonka origins story releasing later this fall.) In the original film, we meet the eccentric Willy Wonka, who lives in a realm that seems contrary to the rest of the world. His jovial spirit and quirky mannerisms can seem enticing and confusing at the same time. He delivers countless iconic lines; my favorite one is when, after he says that they have so little to do with so much time, he exclaims, “Wait. Strike that. Reverse it.”

I feel like Jesus says that to me too in my call to Christianity. He says, “The world is doing X, but you need to strike that and reverse it.”

The American cancel-culture is infectious these days. When a person makes a single mistake, we are not only permitted but encouraged to cut them out of our lives permanently. This goes for celebrities and family members alike. If someone doesn’t agree with our religious or political views, we simply unfollow and block all communication. If someone hurts us, we self-medicate with booze instead of searching for true peace through forgiveness. We justify and excuse our actions because the rest of the world behaves that way too.

As Christians, we are called to live an upside-down, Willy-Wonka-type life. Where others refuse to forgive, we are called to love all the more deeply. Where others seek worldly recognition, we are called to work lovingly from the shadows. Where others seek riches, we are called to generously share all that we have been given. When the world says, “Do X,” we have to wait, strike that, and reverse it.

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The Five Cs of a Good Confession

November 10, 2023/1 Comment/in Catholic Theme, Devotionals, Prayer, Spiritual Life/by Maria Riley

The Five Cs of a Good Confession

Nothing warms my heart more than a long line for Confession. I love when other sinners respond to God’s call to repent. I find it especially beautiful when our parish has penance services during Advent and Lent, and our church is filled with priests and lines and lines of sorrowful Catholics seeking God’s endless forgiveness and mercy. As we near the beginning of our Advent season of preparing for the coming of Jesus, it’s time to start preparing our hearts for repentance.

The Sacrament of Confession begins long before you enter the confessional. It starts when you complete your examination of conscience. There are many options available for you to use, and I personally use a woman’s one based on the seven deadly sins. I have also seen some based on the Ten Commandments or focused on motherhood.

Regardless of which examination of conscience you use, be sure to spend time in prayer, and slowly and thoroughly think about everything you have done and everything you have failed to do. Once you properly examine your soul and let the Holy Spirit bring to mind the sins you need to confess, it’s time to go before the priest.

I recently learned about the 5 Cs of Confession on a podcast by Father Mike Schmitz, and I find them helpful as I prepare for the sacrament. Hopefully, you’ve had the chance to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation recently. If you haven’t, remember that as Catholics we are obligated to receive this sacrament at least once a year (but it is so much more fruitful when you go more often!). Whether you make it to Confession weekly or haven’t been in years, keep these 5 Cs in mind to have the best Confession possible.

Clear

When confessing, speak clearly and specifically. The priest needs to both be able to hear what you are saying and also understand the exact nature of your wrongs. Avoid mumbling or talking about your sin in vague terms. This is our time to openly bring our sins to God in anticipation of His endless mercy.

Concise

We’ve all been sitting there in line for Confession and found ourselves watching the clock tick on and on and on. The truth is that Confession is a time for confessing, not for story telling. If you find that your Confessions go on for a while or that you feel like you have more to say, I encourage you to make an appointment to visit with your priest instead of using the limited Confessional time. If he is not available, seek the ear of a friend or find professional help from a counselor or a spiritual director.

Concrete

Confession is not a time for abstract thoughts or partial admittances. You shouldn’t say things like, “I might have hurt my husband’s feelings,” or, “I sort of yelled at a coworker.” To make an honest Confession, truly acknowledge your sins and state them concretely.

You also need to be wary of our human tendency to justify our sins by bringing the sins of others into our time in the confessional. While pertinent context is appropriate, don’t attempt to minimize your sin by highlighting someone else’s. If you find yourself saying something like, “She did this horrible thing to me first, so of course I retaliated by . . . ,” you need to pray for the Holy Spirit to help you focus exclusively on your own transgressions.

Complete

A good confession includes an honest sharing of all of your sins, not just the ones you feel comfortable sharing out loud. If a sin is honestly forgotten during your Confession, you are still forgiven. If, however, you intentionally do not speak a specific sin out loud, that sin is not forgiven. I find it helpful to write my sins on a piece of paper to bring with me so I don’t accidentally forget any of them. I especially love ripping up the paper afterward and throwing it in the trash, knowing that those sins are gone forever!

Contrition

This is the real heart of Confession—and the most important part. We have to be truly sorry for our sins in order to fully receive the forgiveness and mercy that the Lord longs to pour out to us. If you find yourself struggling with contrition, either because you love your sin or because you feel justified by the circumstances, pray to God that He will change your heart.

When you put the 5 Cs into practice for regular trips to the confessional, your spiritual life and relationship with God will grow and blossom in unexpected ways!

Fall into Pieces or Peace in a Storm?

August 4, 2023/0 Comments/in Devotionals, Elijah, Hope, Spiritual Life/by Ben Bongers

Fall into Pieces or Peace in a Storm?

When you face the storms of life, which do you cling to—pieces or peace? We’re all going to face adversity—life’s storms and earthquakes: illness, being “the other,” not fitting in… But how are you going to react? Fall to pieces? Or slide into peace?

Two stories come to mind.

Elijah was on the run. He’d wiped out all the false prophets of Jezebel, the queen of the land, and she was out for blood—his blood. Elijah realized he was doomed and ran for the desert. No one on earth could save him, so he laid down and prayed for death.

Fast forward.

Forty days later, Elijah was in a cave when God asked him, “What are you doing here? Go stand on the mountain [don’t hide in a cave] and watch me pass by.” Elijah saw all the worst things of life go by: wind, tornadoes, lightning, storms, earthquakes, fires. But God wasn’t in them. No. It wasn’t until Elijah heard the quiet, peace-filled, almost inner whisper and focused on it, that he realized he was in the presence of God.

Jump to the New Testament and Jesus walking on water. Jesus had faced a very long day. He had preached to thousands, fed them with only five loaves and two fish, healed them, expelled demons, and was pooped by the end of it! He sent his followers across the water to the next port of call while he recharged his batteries by praying alone. The disciples, like Elijah, grumpily faced great winds, storms, and lightning. Then, they saw Jesus, as if a ghost, walking perfectly calm on the water toward them, saying, “Don’t be afraid.”

Peter, pure reactionist, challenges Jesus and asks to join Him. Jesus calmly says, “Come.” Peter, now focused on Jesus, does exactly that. He hops out of the boat, not thinking, just reacting to Jesus’s call, and begins to walk on the water. When Peter’s focus on Jesus wanes, the storm, the lightning, the wind, and the inconceivable fact that he was walking on water overtake Peter, and he begins to sink back into his perceived reality, the crashing waves of unimportant things.

These stories are perfect for you and me today! What wind, storms, lightning, earthquakes, and fires do we face every day? Deadlines, family drama, self-made situations that eat our brains and spirits? People who “have it in for us.” Knowing “I should do this and that, but I just don’t feel like it.” Noticing a lump, discoloration on your skin, or little aches and pains you didn’t have before. These are the things we allow to take away our focus on what’s important. Listening to God’s whisper, listening to Jesus’s “Come.”

What did Elijah and Jesus do? They found time alone. They took time to pray, be quiet, and be alone with God. What did God do? He replied, “Be not afraid. I’m here. I got you. Now get outta the boat, focus on me… and walk on water!”

So, what will you choose? To fall to pieces or to find peace? The choice is yours.